The Second Generation
by Habo
Summary: What would happen if Harry Potter and his friends had kids? What would they be like in Hogwarts? The story is set in 2027 and begins just as the second generation are about to start their first year. Contains stories about both the parents and kids. Some


Aaaaaaah! First chapter, first fanfic! It's almost like losing my writing virginity! Sorry, vulgar comment, I know. Anywho, I hope the story lives up to all the grand expectations I know you all hold for me as a writer of HP fanfiction. I hope I shall not disappoint ye readers of much faith.

This fic is set in 2027 during the original character's kid's first year at Hogwarts (hope you can understand that one). It includes stories on both Harry Potter and the gang and their children. Hope you enjoy! Love, habo

Andy now, without further ado...

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter does not belong to me. Gosh, guys, if I have to yell at you crazy fanficers one more time for trying to break into my house and steal the manuscript for _Half-Blood Prince_ I swear...

The Second Generation

Viktor Krum woke up with a start. He sat up in bed, breathing heavily. What a nightmare that was, he thought to himself. Something to do with Amelike's first day of school being only three weeks away, and he and Hermione still not having bought her a broomstick. Ah well, a dream's only a dream he thought. Now, might as well get up, seeing as it's already 5:30. Old practice times die hard...

A second rush of adrenalin poured through his body. That was no dream. Quaffles, what kind of pro Qudditich player/father was he that he had forgotten to get his own daughter a broomstick! And there was only three weeks until school started! Berating himself, Victor slowly got out of bed, trying hard not to disturb Hermione who still slept peacefully beside him. A year and a half they'd been married, and still she did not take kindly to being woken at her husband's obscenely early hours.

Victor crept downstairs in his linen nightshirt and matching pajama pants, the ones with the broomsticks and goal posts painted on them in glow-in-the-dark Marge's Magical Mystery Inks. The mystery was why they came in such outrageously neon colors, especially on clothes that were supposed to make you feel sleepy, not keep your eyes wide open and your head spinning for hours on end. These clothes were so loud that Victor often found himself greeting an early morning owl only to find it squawking and dropping it's cargo as quickly as possible, then turning positively green and flying away so violently, it often left feathers in it's wake. Indeed, one particularly unwitting bird managed to fly straight in to the cabinet where the Krum family's best potion ingredients were kept. They had to redo the counter top below it, as Essence of Black Cat and Dragon Scale had mixed there and left a rather nasty odor, which seemed never to go away no matter how much Miracle Stench-B-Gone Hermione happened to spray on it. Victor was pretty sure the owl as well had a rather vile smell about it as it was leaving. For the longest time he could not figure out why this happened until a father of one of Amelike's friends, who worked for the Messenger Bird's Postal Service Corporation informed him that birds, owls in particular, hate the color fuscia. After this Victor was more careful with his attire when he recieved birds via his window.

Victor's broomstick lay at the top of the stairs, and try as he might, he could not resist the erg to climb on, push off, and go barreling down the stairs in an almost complete nosedive, only to end with a Ronskey Faint six inches above the kitchen floor at the bottom of the two flights. From deep within the gloom of his unlit kitchen he heard the sound of high suppressed laughter and the clapping of small hands.

"Why, hello, Amelike," he called softly. "you're up early."

Cho Potter was livid. In all the years she had been married to her husband, Harry's hair was still his most annoying trait. Though it did have it's perks (remarkable strength, perfect for playfully pulling, as Cho could be a bit rough) it drove her insane most times. And one of those times was now.

"Owww!" cried Harry as Cho tried yet again to drag the heavy plastic horse comb (the one she had hoped would have the best effect) through Harry's tangled locks.

"God, Cho, if you wanted to kill me you just could have given me the Crutacious Curse last night while I was sleeping, it wouldn't have hurt nearly as much as this!"

"For one who has seen what it can do, you sure speak lightly about it. We're meeting Dumbledore at 6:00, and it would be nice if you looked decent for once." said Cho through clenched teeth as she at last wrenched the comb through Harry's head, leaving about half as much hair as had been there before.

The only thing that Cho could think of besides brushing Harry's hair was straightening it, so it at least wouldn't look like the tangle of curls it normally did. However, the only thing she could find that would have been strong enough for Harry's irrepressible locks was Madame Vax's Straightening Wax, 'guaranteed to get out every kink and curl or burn off the hair trying'. (15 galleons at Madame Vax's shop in London, not cheap for a whole new set of hair, let alone trying to fix an old one.) When applied, the wax did make Harry's hair strait. However, it also made every strand stand completely on end, leaving him to strongly resemble a certain muggle pop star. (A/N: sorry, couldn't resist)

"OK, Cho, off. I've had enough." Harry stood up and snatched the comb from his wife. "Let's see how you like it!" he yelled playfully. Harry sunk the comb deep into Cho's thick black hair and pulled, expecting strong and instant resistant. Not so. The comb slid through as easily as though the strands were made of melted butter.

"Haha, I vin again!" laughed Cho in a Russian accent.

"Yeah, we'll see about that!" Harry, in a move so quick it could only have been done be an Auror with many years experience under him, picked up Cho and slung her over his back like a sack of galleons.

"HARRY!"

"Yes, good maiden?" replied Harry, the picture of innocence

"PUT ME DOWN!"

"God, so touchy," said Harry, faux hurt

"Yes, well, I wasn't quite prepared for that." said Cho huffily

"I was just trying to remind you what our dear friend Mad-Eye taught us in the fourth year: 'Constant Vigilance!'" rasped Harry in a dead on impression of their former professor.

"Oh, excuse me, I didn't realize you picked me up and threw me over your shoulder for my benefit. I'm sorry I accused you. Maybe I can make it up to you," whispered Cho, sarcastically upset that she could have misinterpreted her husband's actions

"I doubt it," muttered Harry, though he had a devilish glint in his eyes

Cho reached over to her husband, wrapped him in a bear hug, and gave him a long kiss. How Cho could make bear hugs so sexy Harry would never know. It was one of the things he loved about Cho. Another was that she was a great kisser

"You know, you can't just kiss me every time I get upset. I feel so used," Harry said, mock-tearfully

"You'll get over it," said Cho, leaning in for another one.

"Mom, what are you and Dad doing in the bathroom?" came a voice from the other side of the door

"Cue the annoying child," muttered Harry. To Kar, his daughter, he called "Mom's just trying to comb my hair, sweetie."

"Great, I'll be back when the next ice age is over. She should be about half way done by then."

Harry and Cho both rolled their eyes and opened the door.

The end of my first chapter, the end of my first chapter! I thought it went well, didn't you? More on the other families soon. Hermione and Viktor, Harry and Cho. Good, right? I also liked the names Amelike and Kar. Amelike is pronounced Am (as in Amish)-uh (as in I totally wasn't listening to what my teacher just asked me)-leak (as in oh my god, the boat's sinking). Kar is pronounced like the vehicle.

Well, I gots to go, but ppppppplllllllleeeeeeeaaaaaaaasssssseeee read and review (though, I guess if you're reading this, you've already done the first part). I accept all kinds. Good, bad, I hated your story so I think I'll stalk you over the Internet, whatever. Comments or suggestion about my writing style are welcome as well. I just need to know someone out there cares.

Love,

habo


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